Whatever the case, I resented it every time. It felt as if they were pointing out my own personal flaw, and that bugged me. Because I was young, just a dumbass kid and not mature enough to know how to really handle the situations they put me in. It was still ingrained in my system to respect my elders and do what I was told. But if I could just grow the fuck up already, I had this feeling I’d know how to get out of this, that I wouldn’t feel stuck, that I could take care of my family without so much fear and uncertainty, and I wouldn’t need my clients any longer.
But, no. They just had to keep reminding me how young and clueless I was and how I couldn’t seem to just learn my lesson already.
“Despite your little name fuckup,” my client said as her fingers coasted up my rib cage and smoothed over my pecs, “your performance was still quite impressive. You gave me exactly what I wanted. And mmm, God. This body. It’s been a long time since I got to clutch flesh this firm and supple. My husband’s fifteen years older than me.”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to invite her to continue. I just stood there, antsy as hell, waiting for her to finish, even as I glanced longingly toward the door.
“So, next Thursday,” she went on, drawing her hands lower until she’d curled all ten fingers around the waistband of my khakis. I looked down just as she looked up. “My husband’s out of town again. Why don’t you come back, then? We could try this one more time, without you calling out someone else’s name.”
Since she was watching me as she asked, I wasn’t able to mask my initial response. But seriously? She wanted a repeat? After I’d just botched this job worse than I’d ever botched any job before? After I’d groaned another name while my cock was jetting inside her? Really?
Wow, some people I would never understand.
Reading my incredulous expression, she only chuckled. “What? I believe in second chances.” She let go of my waistband to run her index finger through the grooves in my abdomen. “Besides, that might’ve been the best I ever came… Before you said her name, anyway.”
God, could she please stop mentioning that part?
One thing was certain, I never wanted inside this woman again. She’d messed with my head enough already to last me a lifetime.
“Sorry,” I murmured on a regretful wince. “But I don’t have an opening next Thursday.”
The disbelief on her face was classic. A rush of adrenaline—fear mixed with liberation—roared through me. Aside from Patricia, I hadn’t dared to turn anyone down for a year now.
Thrilling power flooded my veins. But it was chased by worry, because who knew what she might do in retaliation. If she went after Sarah or my mom, I’d regret saying no, big-time.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she demanded, balling a fistful of my shirt into her fingers as if that would actually keep me where she wanted me.
“I really am sorry,” I said, gently taking her hand and removing it from my person, only to kiss her knuckles to soften the blow and then let go of her before backing out of her reach. Then I mumbled, “I’ll see you around,” as I turned away.
“Hey,” she growled. I kept walking, so she said my name. “Mason.” I cleared the doorway and entered the hallway. “I’m not done with you yet.”
But I was more than done with her.
As I jogged down the steps, I could see the shadow of her silhouette loom over me on the wall above the stairwell as she came to the opening of her bedroom door and stopped. “You’ll regret walking away from me like this.”
I already did. My mind was spinning with the worst repercussions possible. So I stopped at the foot of the steps and looked up.
“What do you want from me?” I asked.
Since she was nothing but a dark, naked outline at the top of the stairwell, I couldn’t see her expression, but I could fucking well feel it. She smiled as if she’d already won.
“I want more,” she said simply.
But that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to fucking control me. To dehumanize me. To break me.
I shook my head. “No,” I said, and I turned to leave.
My hands were shaking by the time I reached my Jeep. Sweat coated my brow. If I’d just put a target on my family’s back because of this, I was screwed. What the hell would it have hurt to walk back up those stairs and screw her again like she wanted? It wasn’t as if I had any self-respect left. Any pride. Anything of any kind of worth.
But I guess something was still rattling around inside me, because I’d been more afraid of her taking whatever remained in me than I had been of my own family’s safety.
Ashamed of myself, I drove home slowly. I remained rattled as I pulled into my driveway, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. And to top it off, I could see the glowing orange cherry of a lit cigarette, coming from the edge of my neighbor’s yard to the right.
God dammit, not this too.
I killed the engine and debated on whether I should just sit here and wait until she was gone or start the Jeep up again and back out of my driveway, fleeing for my sanity. One thing was sure, I couldn’t handle a confrontation with Patric
ia right now. But my hesitation was only showing her how much of a coward I was.